As well he might. After all, Juliana was not like other courtesans. Rose had let it be known, discreetly, that Juliana was still a virgin.
‘Good idea,’ the older woman had winked at her, ‘as long as you’re certain you can fool him when it comes down to it.’ Only after a few ‘lessons’ had Rose realised that Juliana’s professed virginity was no trick. Juliana had, like most of the young ladies she knew, been expecting to wait until marriage or, at the very least, a concrete betrothal. Thank the Lord that Mortimer hadn’t achieved his aim before they were interrupted. One thing she had to thank her father’s widow for, at least.
The stage rattled on. Taking a peek out, Juliana saw that it was near dark and jumped at the sudden hoot of an owl. They were some way outside London now, in woods Juliana was unsure of. Quite why Lord Salter couldn’t simply receive her at his town house, which would be far more usual, she had no idea. She began to wish she had accepted the gin that Rose had offered her before she left. But on an empty stomach, she had not deemed it wise.
The coach came to an abrupt halt, causing Juliana to drop her fan. Cursing in a most unladylike manner she went to see what the problem was, then froze in horror as she heard the words every night traveller dreaded.
‘Stand and deliver!’
A highwayman. Though the laws against them were stricter than ever and the penalty, death, still they were known to menace English roads. Desperate and dangerous men, most of them, in spite of the romantic tales of ‘gentleman highwaymen’ that went around. No woman who repeated such tales had ever actually encountered one, Juliana wagered.
Nevertheless, as the coach door was flung open, the first impression Juliana got, in spite of her fear, was of a tall and handsome man, with a full sensual mouth under his mask and strong lean thighs in his breeches.
‘Your purse, madam,’ he insisted in tones that struck her as well cultured for such a devil. Then she saw the pistol in his hand and heard the terrified pleading of the stage coach driver, and his face swam before her, then vanished into darkness.
Chapter Two
Juliana woke with her head spinning and her vision foggy, clutching desperately at the threads of her memory as she tried to ascertain where she was.
She was in a less than comfortable bed in what appeared to be a plain but functional room. Not Lord Salter’s then. Yet as she came to awareness she realised she was dressed only in her chemise. Where was her dress? Her purse?
With a start she remembered the highwayman and sat bolt upright, heart hammering. He stood at the other end of the room with his back to her, poking at a fire in a small grate. Juliana glanced at the door. Of course it was barred, and furthermore the scoundrel had wedged a chair up under the handle. To prevent her rescue? With a rush of terror she contemplated the idea that the thief had mistaken her for a fine ton lady and intended to hold her to ransom. If that was the case, what would he do when he discovered that wasn’t an option?
Shaking, Juliana lowered herself quietly before he turned and saw her awake. She must gather her wits. Although she was in her underwear, she appeared untouched, so he had not tried to ravish her at least. Struggling to piece together her recollections, Juliana had to wonder why on earth a highwayman would hold up the stage and abduct the traveller. She had never heard of such a thing. Had he struck her, rendered her unconscious and carried her back here? Wherever here was.
No. Juliana remembered with a stab of disgust that she had fainted. Swooned, like any jingle-brained young lady with less sense than she had been born with. Right into the arms of a dangerous criminal, no less. Which only deepened the puzzle; why had he brought her here? If he had been intent on ravishment she doubted he would go to the trouble of bringing her to a room. It looked to be an inn rather than anybody’s home. He must have simply seen an opportunity, once she had rendered herself helpless, to kidnap and ransom a woman he assumed to be a connected lady. Surely he would have recognised her status by her attire, but then Juliana had to concede that there were many fashionable young women who attended the theatre in dress that would rival any courtesan’s, swapping their thin chemisettes for a bare décolleté. The lining of the pelisse Rose had loaned her was very fine, as was the lace on her dress and her gloves. It might have been an easy mistake to make, particularly in the dark.
Juliana closed her eyes and lay still as she heard him approach the bed. As the scoundrel leaned over her, she fought not to whimper with fear and betray herself. She tensed, swearing she would claw his eyes out if he made any attempt to touch her. In spite of her fear, however, she could not help but be acutely aware of the nearness of him and the very smell of him. Clean and crisp, but unmistakably male. She heard him straighten and couldn’t prevent herself breathing out in a sharp sigh of relief.
‘You are awake, madam.’ A statement, not a question. Juliana opened her eyes, glaring at him to try to conceal her fear.
He still wore his mask, though he had taken off his hat and cape, and once again she couldn’t fail to notice how handsome he was, with dark hair and full lips at odds with his strong jaw. He had a fine, manly figure, too, with those broad shoulders and long thighs. Juliana swallowed, struggling to compose herself and rid her mind of such nonsense. She must have hit her head when she swooned, she reasoned.
The man smiled at her and stepped back. ‘Would you care for some food?’
Juliana stared. Sitting up, pulling the covers over her chest, she demanded in what she hoped were imperious tones, ‘Why have you brought me here? Where is the coach driver?’
He looked almost amused at her tone. ‘It was not my intention to scare you. When you fainted I lifted you out of the coach, hoping the fresh air would wake you. The coachman drove off—there are many cowards abroad this night—and when I couldn’t rouse you, I could hardly leave you out there.’
‘And my clothes?’
He nodded towards the fire. Sure enough her cloak, gown and corset had been carefully laid out to dry, and her gloves lay on the chair, neatly folded with her fan on top. There was no sign of her purse, however. But he had taken some care of her. She tried to push away the thought of him undressing her with those strong hands while she lay helpless in his arms. Could he truly be after a ransom? How long before he realised there was no one to ransom her to? Her mind whirled with dreadful possibilities.
The highwayman went to the fire again, glancing back at her. ‘Would you care for a small gin? It will warm you. Don’t worry—I shan’t poison you.’ He sounded almost mocking, and Juliana bristled. Biting her lip to prevent a retort, she nodded mutely.
She saw him glance at her breasts, a flash of desire showing in his eyes through the mask, as she dropped the covers to take the drink from him, and snatched them up again with her free hand. He arched an eyebrow above his mask.
‘So modest? I wouldn’t have thought a woman of your, ah, sensitivities would have such a care.’
Juliana gasped, the colour rushing to her cheeks. So he did know. Perhaps that was why he had brought her here and made sure of her welfare, hoping for an easy seduction in return for his kindness. Although he didn’t look like a man who would need to go to such lengths to get himself a woman, he must have women throwing themselves at him, in fact, but nothing else made any sense. She gulped at her drink, swallowing down her anger at his comment, and the image that flashed in her mind of him seducing her here on this bed. In spite of his current solicitous attitude, she had to remember he was dangerous, and probably unpredictable. She drank more of the gin, even though she knew it would do little to calm her nerves.
‘You
